


Classic Misdirection

by ruffruffren



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Blow Jobs, Facials, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffruffren/pseuds/ruffruffren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old habits die hard.</p><p>In his human body Ren struggles to give up his old pleasures, so when the opportunity to rest his head in Koujaku's lap arises he's quick to act on it. However his gentle and seemingly innocent nuzzling leads Koujaku to an unexpected predicament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classic Misdirection

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for Koujaku.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

So why, then, was it happening?

The attempt to alleviate the strain failed miserably, he noted with dismay. The persistent tightness remained, as stubborn as a child in pursuit of candy. Much the same he could feel the nagging ache radiating across his hips, rising up like a silent scream whenever his mind happened to find a momentary slice of peace, a crevice of distraction that Koujaku clung to with all his failing might.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he reminded himself, the inner voice of his mind growing more and more frantic as the minutes – or were they seconds? - ticked by.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention, prickled upright by the anxiety in his fevered body. Every muscle was poised, frozen but simultaneously ready to burst into action should the need arise, and he felt his heart pounding, louder and louder as the building energy inside him threatened to overspill.

All this by one simple, innocent action. One action that followed the question before it, quietly spoken but equally imploring.

'Koujaku,' Ren had said, and one glance at the look on his face revealed how nervous he was, if not the way he refused to make eye contact, and if not that then the faint pink tint to his cheeks revealed the rest.

Koujaku’s response was uniform. His attention was drawn immediately away from the television, the programme he hadn’t really been watching now not being watched at all as his focus changed to Ren, whose broad shoulders had hunched under the weight of the question he was waiting eagerly to ask.

'Yo, Ren. What's up?'

Everything so far was as it was meant to be.

Aoba was out at work, most likely fulfilling mindless deliveries or being harassed over the telephone. Tae was out, administering medicine and doing what elderly women do. And here was Koujaku, sitting on the couch in Aoba’s home, watching TV to fill in the hours until his return, his stomach already preparing for the delicious meal that would surely follow.

Even with Ren stood awkwardly in front of him everything seemed so painfully normal.

'…I have a request.'

'You want me to change the channel?' Koujaku had responded almost dumbly, his disinterested gaze flicking back to the TV, still disinterested.

'No,' Ren replied, his brows knotting, 'That's not it.'

'Then what?'

A pause. It lasted perhaps a fraction too long, before the flurry of earnest words had left Ren’s mouth. They came too fast, took awhile to process and their meaning to register. Yes, they were both still speaking the same language. And Ren had just made a request, one that he had to either accept or decline. Either way, it was his turn to speak.

'A-Ah? I don't see why not…'

Things were now veering off the beaten track. The truck of normality swerved from the path into the unknown, and it was shortly after this point that Koujaku’s carefully constructed routine began to get bumpy.

He watched as Ren moved towards the couch, his movements jagged still. He resembled a dog with socks upon his feet; uncertain, uncoordinated, though you wouldn’t notice it so much if you weren’t paying particular attention. He was kneeling down within a moment, shyly glancing to Koujaku to reconfirm his consent.

'Go on.' Koujaku had prompted, smiling awkwardly as those golden drops of honey lingered. They were, truly, identical to Aoba's. 'It's fine.'

And that’s when what was not supposed to happen, started to happen.

The unexpected, unstoppable jolt of electricity that sparked up Koujaku’s thigh, leaving in its wake frazzled nerves and heated blood. That was not right.

His skin tingled almost painfully, emanating ominously from the point of contact – Ren’s face, nuzzling innocently into the flesh of his thigh, his nose pressing here and there as he made himself comfortable, breathed in deeply the scent of – what? Koujaku’s clothing? But why?

'Thank you,' Ren murmured, his deep voice leaving upon a single breath, 'Although I am unable to rest on you completely as before, I am grateful for this much.'

'R-Ren…'

'As a human I have gained so many valuable experiences,' Ren continued, and as he spoke his head travelled slightly further, encouraged by Koujaku's lack of complaint. 'But I cannot help but occasionally miss the simple pleasures I had as an ALLMATE.'

'All you're missing now is Beni on your head.' Koujaku said, laughing off the peculiar reaction his body was giving, his moistened palm resting where he imagined his own ALLMATE would be perched now if he weren't scouting Benishigure territory for signs of trouble.

It was his first time touching Ren’s hair, he realised with a sudden shock as his fingers sunk into the murky depths. Smooth and as dark as ink, the strands fell perfectly back into place as Koujaku ran his fingers through Ren’s mane, quietly admiring the natural volume and set of his hair.

'…Does it hurt?'

'No. It tingles, however.'

'Ah. I'm sorry, I should have checked with you first…'

'I don't mind,' Ren's voice sounded hazy, and the weight applied to Koujaku's thigh increased, his blood pressure along with it, 'It is a pleasant sensation, to have my hair stroked.'

Neither spoke another word for sometime, a mutual and comfortable silence falling naturally between them.

Yet in that space of time was where Koujaku’s troubles really began to take shape, as Ren’s head now rested dangerously close to his growing problem.

As Ren made himself more at home, recapturing his memories from a time where he was small enough to settle entirely on another’s lap, Koujaku’s thoughts shifted elsewhere, to the apparent changes brought about within himself.

The things that weren’t supposed to happen, such as the familiar and disturbing tightening in his groin, the blanket of warmth that settled over him like a sudden heatwave, the blockage in the back of his throat that laboured his breathing.

And all this because of his friend’s head resting peacefully on his thigh.

Had it really been that long since he was touched by the hand of another?

After the events of Oval Tower, Koujaku had sworn from women entirely. It wasn’t a conscious vow, rather one that he realised had been made only when looking back over the last three years, such as he was now.

He found solace at least in that knowledge. The knowledge that the proximity of Ren’s face to his crotch had aroused such intense physical reactions for no other reason than Koujaku’s neglect of those inclinations.

'…Koujaku.'

The obstruction in his throat doubled in size. He swallowed hard, failed to dislodge it, and instead mustered the strength into masking the discomfort in his voice. ‘What’s up, Ren?’

'Your breathing pattern has altered. Also, I am noticing an increased stiffness in your thigh, most likely caused by a tensing of your muscles.'

'O-Oh? Really, now?' He tried to laugh it off. He regretted it, the sound emptier than a single penny in a homeless man's can. His fingers twitched in Ren's hair, and he found himself wanting to lift is hand away, to fiddle with the remote control or a loose thread on the couch – anything but touching Ren.

'Koujaku.' Ren persisted, moving his face from his thigh to look directly up at him. His face was troubled, eyes slightly narrowed as he attempted to read the emotions on Koujaku's face as if they were written there for all to see. They probably were, Koujaku thought nervously as he struggled to return the look, feeling the beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He waited with baited breath for the inevitable sentences. But when they came, they were not quite as expected.

Then again, this entire afternoon had already travelled far from what was supposed to happen, what was a couple more steps in that direction when you were already lost in the mire?

'Koujaku… Pardon my forwardness, however I have come to associate those responses with arousal.'

Bullseye.

'A-ahh…' Koujaku began, and now that Ren had moved, his hands were free to lift the fabric of his clothes, shielding the confirmation of Ren's statement from view. 'That's not… that isn't…'

'If you are experiencing arousal I can assist you.' Without missing a beat Ren followed up, untwisting his body until he knelt facing forward.

'R-Ren!' Koujaku scolded, 'Listen to me! I am quite fine— Ren!' He cut his own words as Ren's fingers brushed past his own, ignoring verbal protest and gently batting them aside.

The game was up.

Koujaku’s shame was exposed, and he tightened his lips and looked away as Ren’s hungry gaze feasted upon him.

'It's not…'

'It's alright, Koujaku.' Ren reassured, a hint of something laced in the velvet of his voice, a something that tugged at Koujaku's already frayed nerves. 'If I am responsible for causing distress in you, then please allow me to alleviate it.'

'Ren!' The stain on his cheeks was deep, burned with a frightening ferocity as Ren's blunt manner drove straight to the point. 'It's fine. It'll go away on it's on it's just your head got a little…R-Ren!' Before he was done speaking Ren's hands were already upon his belt buckle, brushing his kimono away as if it weren't there at all. 'Ren!'

'Koujaku,' Ren whispered breathlessly, as if he had not heard his friend's protests at all. 'It's really… hard.'

'…Ren!'

'If you really do not want me to touch you, I wont.'

The ball rolled into his court. And there it stayed, all the weight of the decision making piling up behind it. The last decision he had made put him in this mess in the first place, so now he was admitably scared of where this next one would land him – though the destination seemed rather obvious. Was that something he could do?

Somewhere along the line Ren had become experienced in this. He had said as much, and the implication was his relationship with Aoba went deeper than they let on. Something was happening between them, just as it was between him and Ren now. Was it alright, then, to let this continue?

Was he really considering it as an option?

As he battled endlessly with the circle of thoughts in his mind, Ren waited patiently. His eyes were trained on Koujaku’s, an unfaltering gaze that was as unnerving as it was gentle.

 _How can you be so composed at a time like this?_  Koujaku thought, angry at his own inability to function, his frustration deepening at the apparent cool, calm and collected face of his friend. Ren’s lips were parted and his breathing was a little shallow, but that was all – and he was the one talking so bluntly. How was it even possible?

'…D-do what you want.' He couldn't look into those eyes as he said it. He closed them, shutting out the reality that faced him now. He wasn't entirely certain if Ren had heard him, had been about to say something when he felt a warm breath leaking through the fabric of his pants, so close it was almost as though…

…Ren had pressed his face to the taut fabric, his eyes closed and brows knotted as he breathed in, slow and deep, as if to register the myriad of scents that lingered there. The sight was strangely erotic, the sensation of Ren’s breath tickling and teasing at the same time, his nose pressing against Koujaku’s straining member. It was pleasant, but not enough. He wanted to feel it more, so much so that when he felt Ren’s tongue lapping at him his hips bucked from the couch against his will, a socked grunt leaving the back of his throat.

'O-Oi, Ren…! S-stop that!' Koujaku moved his hips, effectively ceasing the rhythmic lap of Ren's tongue.

'It smelt good,' was the reply, plain and simple and matter of fact. 'I wanted to taste it.'

'…Do you have to be so honest? It's kind of… well… embarrassing. And you've made my pants wet, too…'

'I apologise.'

'D-Don't look at me like that, Ren.'

'Like what?'

Was it too crass to answer with the one phrase that sprung to mind? Was it too soon to make that connection, too raw still? To anyone else, to look as though they ‘were in the doghouse’ was a relatively meaningless turn of phrase.

'Never mind.'

'Did you want me to stop now?' Ren's gaze flickered down, to the still ever present bulge in Koujaku's pants, inches from his mouth. 'If I am making you uncomfortable.-'

'I said it's fine, didn't I?' Koujaku snapped, his composure breaking underneath the force of his desires. He had been nuzzled and licked and together they had only served to fuel his need for direct contact rather than cure the issue itself. 'Since, after all, you are responsible, right?'

Oh, god he meant that as a joke. He said it with a wry smile even, the kind of smile that tugged at the corner of your lips, that skewed the context of your words, slanted the meaning.

He should have known.

He should have known that Ren would take him seriously. Seriously enough to firm up the set of his strong jaw, seriously enough for his eyes to narrow with determination, for his hands to rise up and lay waste to Koukaku’s belt buckle, the metal chinking noisily over the quiet murmur of the television.

'H-hey w-wait a sec…!'

'I am taking responsibility.' Ren replied, taking no prisoners with his words. No sooner had they left his mouth than Koujaku's member found its way inside, taking their place in one swift motion that left them both breathless.

'A-Ah…!'

The interior of Ren’s mouth was hot. It wasn’t warm, as he expected, it was  _hot_.

Holding the base in one hand, Ren pressed his lips to Koujaku’s quivering shaft, his tongue sliding out the side to lather saliva along his length before quickly moving his head, up and down, up and down. The pace was intense and unforgiving, if slightly clumsy. But despite the occasional scrape of fang, Koujaku found himself melting into the couch, his head bent down with one eye cracked open, hazily watching as Ren’s head moved back and forth. There was something oddly tantalising in watching his own dick vanish and reappear into the depths of Ren’s scorching mouth. Carried by the current he was lost to, Koujaku’s hand floated back to where it was before, resting upon the crown of Ren’s bobbing head.

Their eyes met in that moment, the touch of Koujaku’s hand disturbing the connection between them. In the depths of the glaze Koujaku saw something different. It was as though he had stumbled over a sight not meant for him; the way Ren’s pupils had shrunk to slits, a single slice of abyss in each one. An abyss that pulled and sucked him into it, a void that forever beckoned with a sugar coated hand.

They were the eyes of a beast, and a hungry one at that.

'R-Ren…ahh…' Koujaku grunted as the slippery tongue wound its way down to his base, lapping up the pool of saliva that formed there before dragging its way slowly back up his underside. That felt good, and a fresh drop of precum oozed from his tip.

Ren waited for it, squeezing with his palm, his tongue extended and waiting patiently with Koujaku’s cock just above him – the sight was reminiscent of catching rain in your mouth. It was impossibly erotic, Koujaku thought, watching with baited breath as the single drop spilt from him.

'…Nhn…'

'Kou…jaku…' A feverish whisper escaped Ren's lips before they circled on their prey again, dragging the thickness of Koujaku's cock back into his mouth for a long, deep suck.

Beads of sweat cascaded down Koujaku’s back, tickling his sensitive flesh like the hand of a mischievous nymph. He felt his kimono dampen around his neck, a sickly coolness in the midst of the heat. ‘…I…’ He began, his lips slipping again from the cock in his mouth. ‘I need to…’ He spoke apologetically, his eyes cast down in shame as he took a second away to unbuckle his own belt. With lust laden eyes Koujaku watched as Ren took out his own swollen member, the broadness of his palm wrapping around it and tugging on it, smearing precum across the length with every stroke.

'I need to…as well…' He said quietly, leaning forward once more to resume his pleasuring, one hand working his own cock to the rhythm of his mouth.

This was dangerous.

Despite the inexperienced technique, Ren’s ministrations were driving him steadily to the edge, and the knowledge that Ren was pleasuring himself simultaneously was too much for Koujaku’s tainted mind to cope with.

'R-Ren… I… I can't… hold it…!' Koujaku warned, feeling the tightness in his belly unravelling. 'A-Ah…R-Ren…! C-Coming…nhn…!' His fingers clutched Ren's hair, holding his head in place as his hips left the couch, shoot his load onto Ren's tongue, his cock twitching with every spurt

When he was sure it was done, the powerful shock wave dissipating into lazy tingles, he sank back down against the couch, exhausted.

'Koujaku…' Ren pleaded, licking the last of the salty fluid from his lips. He had swallowed the rest, the thick drops sliding easily down his throat, 'I need to…'

The look on Ren’s face was one Koujaku would never forget.

It was desperate, frantic, needy.

A sheen of sweat glimmered across his forehead and over his flushed cheeks, his parted lips showing a hint of his fangs. He was panting, on the verge of his own climax and with nowhere for it to go.

He didn’t want to stain the floor with it, or the couch, or his clothes.

'Ah… Come here…' After a brief hesitation Koujaku shifted his body, signalling for Ren to stand up instead. Their positions were somewhat reversed, with Koujaku now kneeling in front of Ren's straining member.

'I've not… I've not done this kind of thing befo-'

'Gnh…!'

It was unexpected. The entire series of events had been, to say the least, unexpected. But through it all Koujaku had failed to anticipate it ending like this. Even as the warm drops rolled over his cheeks, sunk down over his lips and even clung to his hair, he didn’t really register it ending that way. In all his life, he never thought to find himself on his knees with come on his face.

'K-Koujaku! I-I'm sorry…! Forgive me!' Ren's panicked voice only confirmed the reality of the situation.

'…I-it's fine…really.' Koujaku started to say, a little dazed and confused.

'I'll clean it off.'

'That would be good…O-Oi, what are you…'

Ren clasped Koujaku’s face in his palms, and with shallow flicks of his tongue, he began to lick away the mess he spilled there. Diligently he worked, seeming not to mind the flavour of his own making. He ignored Koujkaku’s protests, holding him firmer until the last of his come was gone.

'Th-Thanks…'

'Aoba would not forgive me if I left it like that. I didn't mean to, Koujaku… I couldn't help it…'

”You’re right, I wouldn’t.’

'A-Aoba!?' Koujaku's head turned so fast it almost snapped from his shoulders, a clean cut.

'Thank you, Ren.' Aoba placed his bag down by the living room door, crossing the small distance to pat Ren on the back. 'Did Koujaku enjoy his birthday present?'

'I think so.'

'H-Hey…! What is this?' Koujaku asked, voice raising with confusion.

'We wanted to surprise you for your birthday.' Aoba explained.

'I don't understand. My birthday was three days ago.'

'Correct. But you refused to come over before now,' Ren interjected, offering his hand. He lifted Koujaku to his feet effortlessly.

'Y-You two planned…  _this_?’

The look that passed between them confirmed it. He didn’t think either one of them capable of such plotting, but then it seemed several things were beyond his expectations.

One thing was for sure though, as the three of them trudged up to Aoba’s bedroom. One thing was for sure.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But he was damn glad it did.


End file.
